Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon
I have a few favorite races. Christmas Relays for the spirit, the Woodlands Marathon for the memories (I’ve been running it with my dad since 2015), and the Golden Gate Relay for those we’ve-been-up-all-night-and-now-we-have-to-run-a-10k conversations.
But my favorite race for speed is the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon in San Francisco. It starts on the eastern side of the park, and after a loop of the Panhandle plummets down to Ocean Beach. It’s a fast course for the first 7 miles, then a highly variable course. As you hit the coastline the winds can be brutal!
I woke up at 6. This was only in part for the race; I also had to turn on the slow cooker for our Super Bowl Pulled Pork (it smells so good!). I try to get some caffeine and carbs 2 hours before the race start, so I forced myself to eat a banana and drink two cups of tea. My stomach never feels great on race mornings.
With an hour to kill, I spent some time listening to Why We Sleep, a fascinating book that explores the benefits of sleep. The author was listing off various consequences of sleeping too little (forgetfulness, lack of social awareness, pre-diabetes, possibly alzheimer’s), and having only slept 6 hours the previous night I decided now wasn’t the time. I switched to a physical book: Meditations by Marcus Aureleus, where I found this helpful quote:
Stop perceiving the pain you imagine and you’ll remain completely unaffected.
I don’t think the Roman emperor had distance running in mind when he wrote Meditations, but it sure is relevant!
Soon enough I laced up my shoes and left for the race start. My Uber driver, an Asian man about my dad’s age, asked me if I was racing. He then was like “You’re late! I have already dropped two passengers to the race.” Later in the conversation, I told him I was running the half marathon, and he responded with “Why not the full marathon?” I couldn’t tell if he was putting on a persona ironically, but he definitely was a caricature of the high-expectations-Asian-dad.
The race start was without event, with the usual last few runners vaulting the fence as the announcer counted down from 5. My friend Michael was one of these. He, Doug and I had been training together, and were implicitly planning on running the race together.
It’s bizarre how 5:40s can feel so good during the start of a race, but horrific during a tempo. Doug and I barely hit 4 miles at this pace two weeks ago, but we breezed through the Panhandle miles without a hitch. The race added a 10k this year, which meant we had a nice pack to run with, including some women.
As we turned westward, it became clear that we’d have a 5–10mph headwind for most of the race. It didn’t bother me too much at that point, I just ducked behind some other runners and kept moving.
The next 4 miles towards the beach were fast and fun. My heart, legs, and lungs were fine, and while the pace was definitely uncomfortable, I was in good spirits. What really helped were the enormous number of West Valley members who had come out to cheer. People I knew, and many I didn’t —the club is much larger than I thought it was! Every time someone would shout “Go West Valley”, I’d give them a fist pump or sometimes a worn-out smile.
Doug, Michael and I made a brief attempt at running single-file to cope with the wind, but quickly dropped the formation because our paces weren’t consistent. Michael is faster than me on the downhill, and Doug is relentless when it comes to a headwind.
As we turned South onto the Great Highway, the wind hit us head-on. I felt my pace slow and began to worry that I hadn’t saved enough for the most challenging part of the course. We once again tried to get into a line, and succeeded, looping another runner (affectionately named “red shirt bro”) into our conga line.
What’s both good and bad about this strategy is that you have to stay with the group. Whenever red shirt bro sped up, I had to surge lest I be left in no-man’s land, with no one to block the wind. We alternated leading for the next 2 miles, and finally reached the turnaround point.
As we turned back north, the wind moved from our faces to our backs, and man it felt amazing. At mile 11, I started to feel good again, and even sped up a bit. I was worried I’d psyche myself out so I didn’t check my watch, but I can see now that those were my fastest miles aside from the downhill ones.
My friend Michael took the lead with about a mile to go. He’s training through this race, and was finishing off a 75 mile week. Insane!
The race finishes with a a 50 foot uphill where, as usual, I felt on the verge of vomiting. I felt like I slowed to a jog, but in reality I sped up to ~5:30. The end of a race is time distorting!
I finished in 1:15:45, averaging a 5:47 pace. That’s a 40 seconds faster than my current PR, set almost exactly one year ago. I’m thrilled with the time, especially so because I ran it on such a challenging day. My goal for 2019 is to run a 1:15:30, and that now seems do-able on a calm day and a fast course.
Overall, this race felt great, and I’m still coming down from the post-race endorphins. What I loved most was running as a member of West Valley. We cheered for all our teammates during the out-and-back portion, and were encouraged (and photographed) throughout the race by a huge number of members who came out to support the team. I owe my time to the club, and not just because of their encouragement. Running with fast people is a sure way to get faster, and it seems that our crazy workouts paid off.
